


Phone Shop

by wordslinger



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: Mister Reyes is incredibly clumsy. Leslie is incredulous. How many times can a grown man possibly shatter the face of his phone?





	Phone Shop

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago. It's not seen a beta reader or anything like that. I don't write many original things. I'm beginning to think I'm a one trick, fluffy romance pony.

The phone was placed, _again_ , onto the soft pad spread out on the counter. Its screen was cracked. Severely. Leslie sighed, and poked it with her finger, testing the face for functionality.

“For a grown man, with no children at home, I don’t understand how you manage to damage your phone so often, Mister Reyes.” She tried to keep her tone stern, but really the situation was rather comical. He had been frequenting her shop at least three times a month for the last half-year. Most of her customers were one-offs she never saw again, with the exception of parents and teenagers, of course.

The man smiled sheepishly and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Just clumsy, I guess. Can you fix it?”

Leslie blew a loose strand of hair from her eyes, and glanced up at him. “I can. But maybe you should invest in a case? It would save you hundreds of dollars in repairs.”

“I don’t like cases, they’re awkward.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “More awkward than dropping it all the time? I could offer you a different sort of glass. It’s more expensive, and less sparkly, but it’s shatter-proof.”

His face flushed with embarrassment. “No thank you. I like the regular glass. Please.”

“Right. Well, it’s your phone, and your money. I can have it done for you this evening. Is that okay? You don’t need it for work or anything?”

“This evening would be fine. Thanks again. You’re really the best.” The man backed away from the counter, and into a display case. His face reddened as he righted himself, and fled the shop.

Leslie shook her head slowly as she watched him go.

“Him again? What’s that? The third time this month? A new record for him.” Her sister’s amused voice floated from the back room of the shop.

Leslie shrugged to herself. “He says he’s just clumsy.”

“And you believe him?” Dia appeared from behind a wall of partition separating their workspace from the storefront. Her safety glasses were perched on the top of her head, and she was grinning as she tossed a pair of latex gloves in the wastebasket.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. His phone breaks, I fix it.” Leslie carefully printed out his name on a sticky label and placed the phone in an empty plastic tray.

Dia planted herself between Leslie and the counter. Her face was stretched in a wicked grin. “He _likes_ you.”

Leslie rolled her eyes, and reached around her sister for the tray. “He likes me so he engages in systematic phone abuse that costs him piles of money? Yeah, that makes _total_ sense.”

“It does. _No one_ is that clumsy.”

“Mister Reyes _is_ , apparently.”

Leaving her sister standing at the counter with _a look_ , Leslie entered the back room, and placed the tray next to the seven others she had lined up for the day.

“Come on, Leslie. Let me test my theory.”

“No. He’s my best customer, and you will _not_ chase him off.”

“Sissy, if you wanted that one gone, you’d have to chase him off with a stick.”

Leslie sat with her back Dia. “Why do you say _sissy_ like you really mean _stupid_?”

“Well, if the shoe fits. Listen, you fix his phone, and I’ll handle him tonight when he comes to pick it up. If he’s even a _little_ disappointed, and I’ll be able to tell if he is, then we’ll know I’m right.”

“I’m getting the impression I don’t actually have a choice in this matter.”

“Nope,” Dia chirped as if everything had been decided. Leslie said nothing. Her silence would irritate her sister more than any protests she could make. A pair of arms slid around her shoulders, and Dia’s cheek brushed against her own. “You know I love you, and don’t think you’re stupid, right?”

It was impossible to resist Dia. Ever since they were little girls her sister had been all charm while Leslie was content keeping to herself. Social situations made her anxious and she couldn’t often draw a line between what she _wanted_ to say and what was _appropriate_.

“I know you don’t think I’m stupid. I just –” Leslie turned in her chair to face her sister nose-to-nose. “I can’t really –”

“You _can_. He’s _just_ a man.”

“I need you to let me handle this.”

Dia narrowed her eyes, and stood up straight. “Fine.”

As she watched her sister stalk away, Leslie had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

* * *

 

“Phone and tablet repair, can I help you?” Leslie juggled two plastic trays as she cradled the receiver between her shoulder and ear.

“Leslie! I need you! _”_ Her mother’s voice was urgent, and Leslie suppressed a frustrated groan.

“What is it mom?” Only half attending the conversation, she added the trays to the shelf beside the counter. It was almost closing hour and she liked to have her finished product easily available when their owners showed up.

“It’s this damn laptop,” her mother went on. Leslie rubbed her temple in preparation for the inevitable headache that accompanied providing her mother with technical support. “I can’t get it to turn on, and the buttons are sticky for some reason!”

“Sticky? Mom, please tell me you didn’t spill your coffee on the laptop again.”

“It was only a drop or two, I swear. The light on the power cord is still green, that means something right? I was right in the middle of a very important Skype! Can you fix it?”

“I can come by after we close up here.”

“I need you _now!_ I’ve met a very nice man on the internet, and he won’t wait forever!” It was clear where Dia’s forwardness came from.

“Mom –”

“Can’t Dia close up for you? I’d ask her for help, but you know how bossy she is. I can’t handle her judgment and this is _urgent!”_

Leslie glanced at Dia who manned the register chatting up customers as they paid for repairs. “I guess…”

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart! I’ll expect you soon!”

With a disgusted snort, Leslie glared at the dead receiver. The anxious knot in her stomach tightened.

“Was that mom again?” Dia asked as Leslie tossed her safety glasses in a basket.

“Yeah. Listen, I have to go. Can you close up tonight?”

“Of course!” Dia replied a little too loud, and quite a bit too excited.

“Dia, you are not going to make things awkward for Mister Reyes, do you understand? He’s a very good customer.”

“Me? Awkward? Never.”

Leslie grabbed her bag, and left the store knowing Dia would do whatever she wanted without inhibition. The incredibly clumsy Mister Reyes would likely never return to her shop, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d miss him. _For the business,_ of course.

* * *

 

Leslie never asked her sister what happened the previous evening. She was too terrified. Dia hadn’t offered any information either. All morning her face had been oddly placid, and her usual talkative nature subdued.

“What’s with you?” Leslie asked not looking up from her stack of receipts.

Dia shrugged. “Nothing. Just tired today, that’s all.”

The retort died on her tongue when she spotted Mister Reyes approaching the glass storefront. “You’re kidding me,” Leslie breathed. Her head whipped around to find her sister, but Dia wasn’t to be found.

Leslie couldn’t do anything but stare as he made his way to the counter, eyes everywhere but her. When he stopped in front of her, she couldn’t help the smirk that crept across her face.

“I’m afraid this is getting out of control. Do you need a phone intervention? _Please_ let me sell you a case, Mister Reyes.”

“I –” he began, dragging a hand through his hair. “I have a confession.”

“If it’s water damage, I can’t make guarantees.”

“No, no it’s not the phone.” He cleared his throat and his hands were hidden away in his pockets again. Leslie let him work through his thoughts. She could see them churning away on his face. Her mouth opened to help him out, but without warning he blurted, “I’m not actually a klutz. I mean, I am –” His face crumpled adorably. “Mostly with words, though. Obviously. Listen, I’ve been breaking my phone on purpose.”

“But _why?”_

“Because it’s the only excuse I could come up with to talk to you again. The first time was totally accidental. I really did drop it. But then –” He looked away and stared at the tiled floor. “Things just… spiraled? I guess?” His eyes met hers again. “I’m sorry.”

Leslie stared at him. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat breaking the tension that had been building since the day before. “Mister R-“

“Miguel.”

“Miguel, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” His face fell, and he took a step back from the counter. “You didn’t have to spend upwards of six-hundred dollars just to talk to me.”

“You aren’t angry or creeped out? I’m really sorry, my people skills aren’t the best. I get really nervous, and then words just come spilling out. Like right now.”

Leslie smiled at his verbal stumbles. “I’m not a stranger to social anxiety, Miguel. I will miss your business, though.”

Confusion clouded his features and Leslie glanced beyond him at two teenaged boys who entered the shop. “Why don’t you come by tonight and we can talk about things not pertaining to your technology. I close at seven but I think you know that.”

“You’ll let me take you out?”

“Yeah, but I think you should let me pay.” Miguel’s smile would stick with her all day.


End file.
